


Like He'd Been There

by BigGhost



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, M/M, and i like suffering :)))), because its sad, the ending theory where all 4 chocobros die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigGhost/pseuds/BigGhost
Summary: He was just...there.  Like he had been there for the past ten fucking years.  Like he was there when Gladio had seen him disappear and when Ardyn laughed at them as he trotted his merry way back to Crown City.  Like he’d been there when they finally, finally escaped back to Lucis, without their Crystal, without their king, without their best fucking friend.





	Like He'd Been There

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this before and kind of made a couple fixes to it to repost! hope you enjoy this version! ( ´ ▽ ` )

Not for the first time in his life, Gladio felt the urge to punch Noctis right in his stupid fucking face.

He was just... _ there _ .  Like he had been there for the past ten fucking years.  Like he was there when Gladio had seen him disappear and when Ardyn laughed at them as he trotted his merry way back to Crown City.

Like he’d been there when they finally,  _ finally  _ escaped back to Lucis,  _ without  _ their Crystal,  _ without  _ their king,  _ without their best fucking friend. _

Like he’d been there when they’d holed up in a run down, shitty little motel after Six knows how long of travel, numbness, and denial.

Or he’d been there when, in that shitty little motel, Gladio finally sat down and let himself cry.  A flood of emotion racking his body with contained sobs and violent shaking.  He wasn’t really sure what he was upset about more: that he’d failed Noctis  _ again _ , or that this time it might be permanent.

Prompto had been the one to comfort him first that night. Gladio’s hand, elbow on his knee, covered the bottom half of his face, afraid of showing too much of the weakness he had been groomed to hide; the other hand was help by Prompto as he knelt between Gladio’s knees, talking to him.  Or, it looked like he was.  Gladio couldn’t hear his words over his own heartbeat in his ears.  But he was there, and that was enough.

“It’s gonna be ok,” said Prompto’s lips.

That night, after Prompto had coaxed Gladio into sleep, it was Prompto’s turn to cry.  He hid on the hotel balcony with a jacket and held his head in his hands.  His soft sobs woke Gladio from his light sleep and held him through it, too.  “It’s gonna be ok,” he whispered to him.

The sun did not rise the next morning, and part of Gladio stopped believing in the “ok.”

They both comforted Ignis when they found him in his bed a couple nights later, thrashing and screaming at his nightmares.  The three had held each other while they slept that night.

Noctis stood there like he’d been there when Ignis eventually stayed in the city and helped where he could, becoming a formidable fighter and keeping the civilians safe.  Like he’d been there when Prompto and Gladio had tried to stay together, holding on to the last semblance of their relationship before their hunts took them halfway across the map from each other, and seeing each other became difficult.  Their duty to Noctis’ people had to come first, they told themselves and each other.

Eventually, they became something akin to strangers.  Gladio grew something akin to  _ pissed off _ .  Slowly, everyone in his life was beginning to disappear, just as Noctis and the sun had.

The bastard prince stood there like he’d been there for all ten fucking years that the night had ravaged what was left of Lucis...left of  _ Gladio _ ...and destroyed it.

And Gladio had to keep himself from crying at the sight.

Ignis held back words, maybe from fear that he’d lose his composure.  Prompto hugged Noctis before even saying hello, like they were afraid he wasn’t real.  Maybe he wasn’t.  Gladio found that he didn’t really care either way.

* * *

 

Noctis was going back to Crown City.  He was taking his kingdom back, and ending his family’s dynasty, as told the prophecy of the Six for the King of Light.  Gladio was tempted to say that they should just live in the Eternal Night, the four of them, like they used to.  He wanted things to go back to how they were.

_ Why couldn’t they just go back to how they were? _

But he knew Noctis’ answer.  He could see it on his face.  Noctis would not survive this fight.  He would be the last king of Lucis.  The dawn would come and his land, his people, his  _ friends _ , could feel the sun again.  Even if he would not.

Gladio, as much as it pained him, had to be the Shield.  Not his friend.  Not Gladio Amicitia.  First and foremost, he had to escort his king to his death.  The thought sat heavy in his stomach, like a lead ball, and pulled at every part of him like needles.

Prompto took it harder, biting his lip to keep it from shaking, and pounding his fist lightly on the table.  He begged Noctis to find another way, to forget about his destiny and just do what he could to restore the world with them.  To be with them again.

“You know I can’t,” was all Noctis said.

_ But why the fuck not? _ Gladio thought.

Prompto’s tears hit the back of his fists, and Gladio felt like he could hear them,  _ drip drip drip _ .  For the first time in years, he reached out and held Prompto’s hand in his, swallowing it in his palm.

Prompto’s head jumped up to look at him, then at their hands.  His face crumpled into silent crying as he gripped Gladio’s hand tightly.  They were going to be ripped apart again and there was nothing they could do about it.

They would leave for Crown City in the morning.

* * *

 

Getting to the Citadel was difficult, but they made it.  This was it.  Noctis would go and take his place as the last king, and bring back the dawn.  There was no going back.

When he hesitated on the stairs to accept his end, Gladio felt a glimmer of hope that maybe they could all go back to Hammerhead and be together again.  He pushed it away with the reminder that this was how it had to be.  For the good of Lucis.  For Cid, Cindy, Iris, Ignis.  For Prompto.

“Walk tall, my friends,” he said, and for the first time, Gladio truly felt like the Shield of a Chosen King.  “The time has come.”

They bowed to their king as he left for his own job.  And they had theirs.  Staring four Red Giants in the face was, somehow, not so scary anymore.

“When this is over,” Gladio paused and saw Prompto look at him from the corner of his eye.  He threw his giant sword over his shoulder with a smug little grin.  “Get some good pictures of that sunrise, okay?”

It felt good to hear Prompto laugh at that.  “Only if you take them with me,” he said back.

* * *

 

Gladio wished he could say he had been there when Noctis took his seat as the King of Kings.  Like he’d been there when Ignis fell for the last time, and lie unmoving.  Like he’d been there before Prompto was thrown to the ground, a sickening  _ crack  _ and soundless screams escaping him as Gladio killed the offending daemon before its sword came down on Prompto.

He wished he could say he had seen the other giant, the one that had killed Ignis, coming up behind him as he knelt beside Prompto, praying his last elixir would be enough to heal his broken body.  “Gladio--!”

The giant picked him up, engulfing him in its grip and squeezed him tight.  Gladio heard his ribs crack under the pressure and screamed when he felt it, blood oozing from his mouth as the monster lifted him to throw him hard against the ground.  His body landed some feet away on his back; he could see Prompto crawling to him as quickly as he could, elixir in hand, and the giant stomping over to him to finish the job.  It raised its flaming sword high to crush what was left of Gladio.

Then dawn broke.

The giant shrieked in pain as the light hit its skin and retreated into the ground in a black puddle, leaving the yard silent as it was bathed in the pink and orange light of the sun.

Gladio looked around as best as he was able.  He saw Prompto struggling to crawl to his side, the effort in every moment evident on his face and tears streaking his cheeks.  From pain or from grief, Gladio wasn’t sure.

Finally, the man managed to lie just a couple feet away Gladio, breathing heavily as he pushed the elixir to him.  “Gladio…” he whispered, resting his cheek against the cold, wet stone.  He was exhausted.

Gladio managed a ghost of a smile and slowly slid his bleeding hand against the ground to Prompto, stretching it as far as he could.  Neither had the strength to break the bottle.  The elixir couldn’t help him now.  Prompto knew it, too.

Prompto looked at his hand and let his tears stream freely, sparkling against his nose and splashing against the wet ground.  His face twitched slightly, but no sound escaped him as he scraped his arm against the stone to slowly bring his hand up to meet Gladio’s.  Unable to grip it, he simply lay it there, where their fingers lay together to feel their warmth slipping away.  Their fingers twitched in attempt to hold each other.

Gladio could see the light of the dawn slowly creeping up on Prompto’s face, lighting up the freckles Gladio remembered seeing so long ago.  His hair of sunshine gold that had dulled with age was the shiny blond that they had once jokingly referred to as chocobo down.  His crystal blue eyes, suddenly young again and glossy with tears, flicked from Gladio’s face to just above him, at the horizon.

For a brief moment, his lips twitched as he chuckled lightly, too painful for a true laugh, and his tears dropped heavier.  “There it is…” he whispered, “The dawn.”  Gladio could almost hear how his throat tighten with tears as he tried to swallow them down.  “It’s beautiful.”

Gladio’s fingers twitched against Prompto’s, pushing between their spaces as best he could; his vision was blurry as he blinked away his tears.  The sun felt nice against his skin.  And it looked beautiful in the reflection of Prompto’s eyes.  “Yeah, it is,” he whispered back.

* * *

 

The sun beat down on Gladio’s shoulders; he better not be burnt up later.  It would be the kicker to this shitty day.

He kicked Prompto and Noctis up from their spots, dramatically splayed out on the road like roadkill, and ushered them to their spots.  Like hell he was pushing this thing alone.  They would complain, but tough shit.

He put a cork in their complaints with, “Can it.  Ready, steady…”

In the back of his mind, though, pushing the car like this all the way to Hammerhead…

“Really?” Noctis moaned.

“Push!”

It was like he’d been there before.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh~ i love a happy ending~ find me on tumblr as hamuretu or sugarbath on tumblr!


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